The world above our own
by TheVerticalOne
Summary: Set in modern times, the story revolves around a young goblin named Ramardo (a descendant of Emily and Seylin) who is a bit too rebellious. So when he meets a beautiful but very independent human girl named Gabriella he takes his rebellion to a whole new level by chasing after her. She is at first very irate. But as times goes on the rebel in her comes out too. Mostly OC's
1. Chapter 1

**R** amardo always had an inclination to human behavior. Now let it not be said that he wasn't goblin enough, he was goblin through and through but yet sometimes…

Of course being the only son of one of the highest families in the kingdom helped tolerance very much his father being the former military commander and his mother being the lore-master of war and military history as well as a one of the strongest elf-bloodlines they had. His first twelve years of life had gone well enough, spoiled slightly because of his rank and the fact that he was an only child. But on his twelfth birthday he was sent to become a page and actually had to learn discipline, at first he was an unholy terror. He never did his lessons, he shirked his duties, and gave nothing but snark to his mentors. "After his father's career and all-how could he be this way?!" he had overheard some of his teachers saying. He had shrugged it off for to the untrained eye he had two emotions: fiery and passionately angry, or bored and apathetic.

But when he turned fifteen things changed. He was busy not doing his elf math when he heard a rampant ascent up the stairs that led to his dorm. He flicked on his light and rolled over on his bed to see a short furry figure with a trunk for a nose come bursting in to inform him with a squeak that his father had had an accident at the construction sight for the new shooting range and he had to come immediately. He had sat up and using some recently acquired magic skills (which was one thing he excelled at much to his teachers chagrin) gotten to the sight in less than five minutes. His father had been demonstrating how widening a certain section of ceiling would improve the architecture when he had had a sort of spasm while performing the spell and a piece of the ceiling had come crashing down on him. Goblins and dwarves were surrounding him when he arrived. His mother sat stoically by his head unmoving. Ramardo just stared at his fathers' still form. He was so strong, so dominating, so…fierce. Commander Ectoron was known for his strong will, his shrewd mind, and his ruthless nature coupled with an explosive temper, which Ramardo had inherited. He recalled his fathers' words of frustration a while back after the report of his behavior had reached him. "Anyone!" he had yelled "who can act like this and feel no regret is no son of mine!" These words haunted him now as he saw the proud face white and still. Marak Harefoot had arrived with a healer elf woman who immediately began ministering to the stricken figure. Marak raised his head to meet Ramardo eyes and said something, which he didn't hear. "Ramardo! Can you hear me?" the goblin king shrilled. Ramardo lifted his eyes and looked blankly at him. "I said he's going to be fine!"

Ramardo felt a sudden lift in his soul but inferred nothing. He gave a sort of shrug and began helping the construction dwarves clean the rubble via magic. The crowd gave a collective sigh at the indifference of the commander's only son. But from that day he began applying himself ten-fold to his studies and duties. He slaved away at combat training, turned in every assignment smugly to his teachers, and his magic bloomed to astonishing scales. From that day on Ramardo knew he would never lose what he wanted.

 **W** hen Gabriella turned 13 her father remarried. Of course it had been three years since her mother had died but the sting from it cut her deeper than anyone could know. She remembered vividly her standing in a sickeningly yellow frilled dress holding a bouquet of yellow and pink roses as the parson droned on. Her father was in his military uniform with a newly sprouting buzz cut looking so solemn and staunch it looked like he was at attention. Her new stepmother to be standing next to him looking dwarfish at her 5' 4" compared to his 6' 1".

She just couldn't shake the memory of another gathering when she had been dressed in a black blouse with jeans standing over a casket… the turnout then had been much smaller. She remembered wrinkling her nose a little at Gloria (the bride) and she dabbed away a tear. She was the complete opposite of her mother; Gabriella's mother was tall and slender (where Gloria was short and highly over weigh), with that dark brown wavy hair she had inherited. She had been quiet and soft-spoken unlike Gloria's constant pointless chatter she thought bitterly. Of course Gloria was a "damsel-in-distress" which is what her alpha male father seemed to like and, she admitted silently to herself, what her mother had been too.

The new life Gabriella led was often compared to that of Cinderella. Soon after the wedding her father got his baby hungry bride pregnant so he could go over seas on an afghan tour in order to leave Gabriella at home with peace. "You are just a little cinder-girl!" Gloria had gushed, "Only I definitely won't be a wicked stepmother". Well she wasn't wicked, Gabriella had thought. Maybe the self-absorbed stepmother, or the needy stepmother, or the emotionally immature stepmother instead.

Two years and two new little half-brothers later the unthinkable happened. Her father was killed in a training exercise when there was a malfunction in the helicopter he was in; it crashed. At the second funeral she had attended for one of her parents she had watched people crowd her stepmother who was sobbing hysterically. "But don't worry" she had choked out "I'm going to keep this family together no matter what!"

The truth of this oath was made known when three months later the state decreed Gabriella be sent over to England to live with her mother's sister and her family after her stepmother kicked her out in a panicking rage. The aunt and uncle provided the stability Gabriella had so long needed and she flourished in school. All who knew her there would say she was a smart confidant, and well-adjusted girl. Then on her sixteenth birthday she ran away from home without warning and disappeared off the system.

Gabriella's next most vivid memory was two weeks after she had ran off was of her walking down a dark alley in Liverpool. She was tired dirty and to be honest terrified. But a strong survival instinct that had had to develop suddenly pushed forward. So she grit her teeth and decided then that she probably would rarely get what she really wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

Marak Harefoot sat in his office frowning. As goblin king he had countless responsibilities three fourths of which seemed to cause him to sit inside all day in front of mounds of paperwork and other royal texts. No matter how many scribes/accountants/paperwork-people were hired and trained he still seemed to become bogged down with duties that were "for the king's eyes-only". _"Well these king's are too tired to continue…"_ he thought bleakly and brushed away the papers with a sigh. His magic senses were startled to realize that someone was just outside his door. "Yes?" he called out hurriedly before they could knock, embarrassed at being caught unawares. The door opened to reveal a youthful smirk. Ramardo waltzed in non-chalantly and grinned at the irritated Marak. "You wanted to see me your most highness?" he inquired innocently. "Yes, yes, now sit down" he grumbled while magically shutting the door. Ramardo wandered around the room while Marak stared at him in annoyance, of all the members of the King's Guard and Security team Ramardo was the most insolent. He finally ceased his wanderings and came to stand before the desk. There they showed just how diverse the goblin kingdom was, the two were very different in looks.

Marak's line it seemed by the time it got to him was sick of being drowned in elf blood and had lumped as much goblin oddity as it could; he was short and stout with a characteristically misshapen torso. His skin was a pasty gray with almost no silver and his head a bit to big for his shoulders. Thin blond hair clung to his tight scalp which he usually kept tied back to make it look thicker, though it exposed his rather unusual face, he wasn't ghastly as far as goblins go but his cheeks and jowls were a bit plump and his nose a bit pinched, his lips were thin brown lines and his eyes were small black beads staring out from underneath big bushy eyebrows. But his most distinguishing feature was his feet. They were without question and to the amusement of most of the kingdom big fluffy bunny feet. In fact Ramardo being the only one bold enough called him "his royal fluffiness" to the other guard members. However this was just one of the countless very private jokes of which Marak was the brunt of.

Ramardo on the other hand was a super-model by goblin standards. His hair was thick, black, silky, and long, it sat around his face in waves. He was tall and evenly proportioned with tight muscle over his lean body. His bored face was striking. He had high sharp cheekbones, thin cheeks, a prominent jaw, aquiline nose and simple dried-blood-brown lips that were usually pulled back in a smirk. His eyes were a fiery yellow-orange and seemed to glow against his silvery skin. Ramardo also had a tail: a "devil's style" tail long and gray with a tuft a black fur on the end. This tail could usually show the emotions his face refused to convey. Ramardo was extremely elf-pretty but with all the goblin strength and cunning.

This comparison made and noted the king spoke up. "I was simply curious as to your immediate plans for your trading and surveillance trip?"

"Well as your majesty requested we will be gone for three days to Liverpool and any place we can find to do some basic trading with our suppliers, and also give a report on any suspicious or even remotely interesting human activity" he drawled.

"And who is going" Marak inquired glumly.

"Waylar, Bronte, Irinan, and myself".

"I see, now Waylar mentioned something about a possible extension?" asked the goblin king slyly, proud to have caught him in his plotting. Ramardo rolled his eyes realizing that Waylar, the wet blanket of the group, couldn't keep anything from his king.

"I'm glad you asked your majesty" he replied flippantly rising from the seat he had been occupying. "I think we need to extend it to a week".

"A WEEK!" sputtered Marak also rising from his chair. "Why on earth for!"

"Because we haven't been out in a while", Ramardo began but was interrupted.

"Oh so you just want a week of frivolously bouncing about the humans?! And do you not remember what happened last time! You are lucky I'm letting you go at all!" he yelled coming around to stand in front of Ramardo. Ramardo raised his hands and began again to patiently explain,

"We haven't been out in a while so we don't really know what the humans have been up to, it might be a good idea to observe and gather news a while longer that's all I'm saying". Marak regained his composure a little and replied:

"We have no reason to know of all the doings of the humans at this time". Ramardo tisked, "now really your majesty that's strange coming from you". Marak drew back offended. Marak's father before him had a deep distrust of humans and had kept them isolated from the upper world to the maximum, trapping them in an obsolete state. But upon his death Marak Harefoot had taken a different approach in letting some of the human developments into his kingdom such as electricity, mechanics, and even the Internet, as well as some fashion and fads. The people had flourished with these new modern gifts even though magic was a huge part of the culture, the kingdom was considerably bigger than it had ever been and trying to keep these under control with just his magic had been near impossible for Marak. It was his one great accomplishment, and Ramardo accusing him of otherwise bit his rather delicate ego deeply. Marak scowled as he returned to his seat. "Very well", he muttered "you have my permission for a week, but you must stick together!" he ordered point sternly at him. Ramardo grinned and gave an exaggerated and rather outdated bow. "Thank you your most gracious royalness, you won't be displeased".

"Try me" growled the goblin king.

"I'll just be hopping along then" Ramardo trilled merrily allowing himself a chuckle as he exited. Marak watched him as he went, thinking silently. _"There's something off about that boy, he's a bit to human for his own good, and after his father died three years ago he acts to…perfect"._ Marak grumbled and blamed it on Ramardo's great, great, great grandmother Emily who was one of the last human brides.

Ramardo left the King's palace and proceeded towards the guard's rooms to inform his comrades of the extension. He past through the main square, occasionally waving to a familiar face. He reached the entrance of the dorms and with a flick of his hand used the magic combination to gain clearance. Once inside he proceeded down the hall till he reached the common room. Inside were three goblins busily discussing amongst themselves but stopped once he entered tail swinging. "Greetings all, I have wonderful news for us all!" he sang out gliding into a seat comfortably.

"Oh 'Mardo-you didn't, you couldn't have-you asked him didn't you!" moaned Waylar the furry goblin with a trunk. Irinan and Bronte exchanged glances before he answered.

"Yes my dear Wailer I did ask his most high fluffiness for our most necessary extension", he said dryly. The furry goblin made a distressed snuffling noise and groaned out: "How could you, I thought we agreed not this time!" Ramardo chuckled at his fellow's distress.

"Well he agreed so no harm done", he said, running his long dark nails across the seams of the chair.

"I guess we better pack extra food then" Bronte, a tall goblin with ears of a mule, spoke up.

"Of course",

"And we'll need more money to exchange currency",

"You can be in charge of that"

"Irinan is better with numbers",

"Fine, Irinan then"

"Fine". Bronte gave a sly grin to the now scowling Irinan, who hated dealing with the kingdoms' accounting department.

"And that takes care of that", declared Ramardo rising from his seat.

"Oh 'Mardo before I forget", called out Bronte, "Juniper was looking for you".

Ramardo froze just as he was leaving, he turned and asked: "how long ago?" Bronte shrugged, "I dunno' maybe an hour ago, she seemed anxious to talk with you" he replied wryly winking at Irinan. Ramardo left wondering what she could want, tail twitching anxiously


	3. Chapter 3

Juniper was waiting patiently in the dorm hallway for Ramardo to arrive. Her arms folded she paced a little before regaining her perfect poise. Juniper was an elf, and a beautiful elf at that. She had come to live in the Goblin Kingdom three and a half years ago. Three generations back the elves and goblins had made a treaty that changed everything. The elves would send over a certain number of elf girls to supply the need for brides. These girls arrived at age fourteen and stayed till eighteen when they were old enough to marry. Only the highest goblin families would need brides and it kept both race strong, since they had began the practice both races had doubled in size; the goblins because elf blood went a long way, and the elves because the goblins gave them fertility and childbirth magic that increased the average amount of children born to elf-women from one or two to about four.

Juniper was from one of the highest elf families. But with two older sisters it was very competitive in the elf court, so she had jumped at the chance to become a goblin bride. It was not a bad-life, especially for the material girls who knew goblins lived lavish lifestyles with jewels, fine food and clothes, not to mention the automatic status boost being an elf in the goblin kingdom gave. From the moment she had arrived Juniper had begun climbing the status tree within the courts. Everyone knew she was also Ramardo's bride to be, though he had an official claim on her everyone also knew that she had set her sights on him first.

She whirled around at the sound of boots walking down the hallway. Ramardo came towards his door just in time for Juniper to pop out.

"Ramardo, where've you been I've been looking for you"? A tad annoyed Ramardo faced her giving her a nonchalant smirk. "Guard duties and such" he said by way of reply. She placed her hand on her small hips.

"I need to talk to you"

"Well that's what you're doing so…"

"Don't be smart with me this is important!" she folded her fragile arms and fixed him with a glare. Ramardo studied her. Elves were humanoid and would possibly blend in around humans but there were some differences. For one thing they were all beautiful, there was no such thing as an ugly elf or even an unattractive one. The next thing was the long pointed ears and faintly silver skin. Also it seemed that where human features turned down elves turned up: eyebrows, corner of the eyes and mouth, etc. This elf was particularly pretty: she was delicately built and stood at just over five feet. Her hair was very long and looked as if it was spun out of sunbeams, her eyes were a light blue and shone, her mouth was so evenly proportioned she looked like a porcelain doll. She was wearing a sort of old fashioned rose-colored dress that was cut off at the knees akin to the 1950's poodle skirts.

At the moment she looked like an angry porcelain doll.

"Calm down June I was on my way to find you" he assured her.

"Why do I doubt that?" she exclaimed with an exasperated wave of her hand. She sighed and regained her poise before he replied: "so what is it my dear June?"

She fixed him with a firm stare. "Why do you want go up to the human world?"

Ramardo's tail began an agitated swing. "I don't quite understand…" he began; this was not a lie.

"Why did you ask Marak for such a long extension? I mean what do think is up there that you have to do so badly?" she clarified gently.

Ramardo turned a little, his tail twitching: "I can't answer that", he stated simply.

Anger returned to her eyes. "Why not?" she asked her voice low.

"Because I'm not sure of all the reasons myself but I've been getting some strong feelings and I feel I have to continue", he replied trying to stay cordial.

"But why haven't you told me this before!?" she cried but stopped as his eyes snapped dangerously. Leaning forward he replied: "I wouldn't worry about it June, we aren't even together yet". June paled then flushed. Ramardo opened the door to his room and bid her a good morning. June watched his departure with frustration. Goblins never lied yet he had a way of telling the truth that didn't really reveal anything. It had been no secret that he was restless in his currant position. Ever since his father died he had seemed to just bide his time until…something. She felt the loss of control over him knowing he would certainly be unreachable in the human world. _"I can wait too Ramardo"_ she thought as she turned to leave.

About a day and a half later the group of goblins were just outside Liverpool in preparation for trading. Irinan was distributing clothes to his fellows while Waylar was listing off instructions.

"…and we can't speak to anyone not immediately concerned with our business, we can't take anything that doesn't belong to us back to the kingdom, and there will be no…"

"Give it a rest Wailer" piped up Bronte who was struggling fitting a t-shirt over his ears. They were all issued human clothes, which, with a little magic, would help them blend in once inside the city limits. Their clothes had to fit their individual needs, Irinan needed a hat and turned up collar to hide his bald gray head and extremely pointed ears, Bronte needed a hoodie and boots to conceal his ears and hooves, and Ramardo really just needed a hoodie to create obscurity since a pair of firm jeans would conceal his tail. There was however no hiding Waylar so magic had to be applied that prevented anyone from looking at him head-on or even a one-foot radius around him. He normally wouldn't be considered for this type of mission but Marak needed a "level head" and the goblins were actually fond of him despite his anxious and abrasive personality.

"Alright let's have a look" called Ramardo once he had secured his tail down his left pant-leg.

The troop lined up for inspection as Ramardo gazed over the ramshackle apparel which was fifteen years old at least. Suppressing a wry smile he gave a nod of approval and the headed out.

Liverpool had been the goblins main port for centuries due to its' size and ambiguity. The group would go in and meet their suppliers for large orders of different foods, clothing, building materials, and anything else the goblins might fancy. After securing these orders they would take them to the outskirts where a larger group of goblins would meet them and get the order home. Occasionally elves would also pick up supplies from them but this was the off-season and elves were very unopen to human goods. What their suppliers assumed one could only guess, but were more from a shadier part of town and didn't ask questions once they were paid. Goblin goods would also be sold for cash, which would be taken back under for further use. The whole process took about three days at least, not counting the trip there and back. But four or so days would be spent learning about the currant goings on of the local human culture as Ramardo had requested.

Plans had to be made so the group discussed the particulars on the way. They had only exited the goblin kingdom yesterday; the kingdom had nearly tripled in expansion over the past century cover nearly 200 square miles of underground.

"There's an abandoned ware house that's had a couple of safety spells put on it, that will do for lodging, it is on the outskirt of town however" Irinan explained.

"That'll be fine", murmured Ramardo distractedly. Bronte and Irinan exchanged glances. Ramardo had been itching to arrive and had lost a bit of his leadership capabilities. He was one of the head captains after all and was in charge of the mission.

"I just hope we don't run into any…trouble" stammered Waylar. Ramardo smiled. What his nervous friend was referring to was an incident that had occurred last year during their trip.

They had been on their way to a meeting at night (goblins were only active at night) when they had been approached by a couple of prostitutes. Ramardo while having no interest in being a patron had been intrigued and engaged with them, much to the dismay of his companions. Things got sticky once the police showed up and began investigating. Waylar crumbled under pressure and did a minor spell on one of the cops causing him to be knocked over suddenly. His partner drew his weapon and chaos had nearly broken loose but Ramardo used the same spell on him. The prostitutes had made a run for it not really caring about what was occurring as much as avoiding capture. Marak had been furious when he found out and had nearly banned Ramardo from the Guards and exiled him to a dwarf mine up north, luckily Ramardo's mother had used her influence to convince the king to put him on probation. It was a wonder that Ramardo was on this trip at all.

Gabriella stared at the form in front of trying not to start screaming in frustration. For weeks she had been waiting for this very thing, hope piling on it with every passing minute. She dropped harshly on the dirty table in front of her and grit her teeth. It had been eight months since she moved back to England and she still couldn't cut a break. Her head in her hands she sat in silent agony for a few moments before glancing at the clock. Seeing the time she stood up and threw the papers in the trash, it was almost time for her shift at the club to start.

Gabriella was still not going to college.

 _"_ _Haggling with humans is this close torture"_ , thought Ramardo glumly. For almost three days they had done nothing but lurk in the slums of the city bartering for custom goods with shady off coast suppliers and Ramardo's patience was wearing very, very thin. He gave a sideways glance at Irinan who was having a heated discussion with a Scott over shoes.

 _"_ _Perhaps later tonight we could do some…surveillance"._ Another look at Irinan revealed the Scot was about to lose his nose so he intervened. "Now sir I think that we have offered a reasonable price, so if you can't get under we could go to Lance-across-town", he crooned nonchalantly. The Scot glared at him: "You 'n I both know that he only has access to half of what I do and his operation could crumble on a single leak!" Ramardo shrugged and motioned his fellows away. "Now don't be like that, I have to order in all your customs from the _ port!" Ramardo's strong magic sensed the lie in this and smiled as he turned to face the supplier.

"That's not true my friend, you knew we were coming so you bought out any surplus to corner the market, you know our usual price range. But apparently", he continued with false sympathy "you don't know how much we dislike being cheated!" Ramardo gave a brief nod to his companions and Bronte and Irinan began moving toward the Scot in a sinister fashion.

"Whoa now…" stuttered the Scot beginning to perspire "I-I think we can work it out".

He gave the frightened human a smile that made him turn ashen as it exposed his sharp gray teeth. "Oh good, you had us worried!" he replied cheerfully.

The deal was settled fairly quickly. The group afterwards headed to the abandoned warehouse that served as their shelter.

A fire was started and food was divvied, they proceeded to relax and chat as they filled their stomachs.

"So 'Mardo" inquired Irinan through his food "what did Juniper want the day before we left?" Ramardo was not expecting this question so he took his time before answering. "She wanted to say goodbye and tell me to be careful". Bronte gave an equine snort,

"Oh please 'Mardo we're not stupid, she wanted something off you, you know besides your manhood." This last phrase caught both Irinan and Waylar in a choking fit, the former from laughter the latter from shock at such a thought. Bronte met Ramardo's fixed glare with an expression of innocent inquiry. Rolling his eyes Ramardo replied coolly:

"She just let me know exactly what she thought of my extension and general appearance in the world above our own". The silver and donkey eared goblins snickered but Waylar piped up in protest. "Well come on now she has a right to ask!"

"Really and what right is that!" he snapped. The goblins silenced at his sudden irritation. He stood and announced abruptly: "Gentlemen I think we should go out tonight".

"W-what do you mean go out?" asked Waylar nervously.

"What I mean my dear Wailer", he said with sudden purpose "is its time to go exploring."


	4. Chapter 4

You'd have thought he had suggested the assassination of Marak himself by the way Waylar responded to this candid suggestion. But after much arguing it was decided that they would all go to a central part of town together than break off for some "surveillance".

They ended up on a street lined with bars, clubs, and goodness knows what else that was full of allies, and dark crevices where junkies and hookers lurked. In other words it was the hottest part of town. "No" exclaimed Waylar in loud whisper "I will stay another minute here! It is the very pinnacle of human filth!"

"Calm down Wailer," muttered Bronte. They were trying to look inconspicuous while walking down the street. They were failing.

"This isn't right, we are going to get in trouble-again!" whimpered the nearly frantic Waylar.

"Shut up" growled Ramardo. His senses were very centered in his tail and with it trapped in his jeans was causing him to be very skittish, not to mention the fact that Waylar was near tears. They stopped on a dark street corner.

"Now Waylar," he said soothingly "part of this mission was to observe the humans, and what better place to do that than here", he gestured to the crowded stores.

"Apparently on Friday night the humans all come out of their little houses and stop there pointless little scurryings to all gather in highly crowded points of congregation to eat, drink, and be merry, so they might actually be interesting!" he remarked. (Though this was the common goblin sentiment, Ramardo actually thought humans were fairly interesting all the time.)

"But why can't we go somewhere more-I don't know-us!" Waylar whined. "Like the library! Or those tunnel things they build you know, metros!"

He smiled tolerantly at his nervous friend and was about to answer when disaster struck. Recalled later, all remembered the events of the night differently. But Ramardo would say they were a Godsend.

A human man about thirty years old dressed and set of countenance of which any regular human would know right away as to identify him as simply "a Junkie", approached them. They did look like joint-dealers standing under a broken lamp at 10:00 at night.

"Hey" he slurred "whadda' go' I'd take a dimesworth iffen you go' it". All four goblins froze at this new dilemma. He seemed to want something from them under a mistaken conclusion and he clearly wasn't in his right mind. Bronte spoke first: "Sorry, none left".

The man moaned: "Aww come on I'm good fo' it". Waylar stared on him in absolute horror, he had read about humans like this!

Just down the street a brand new green beat-cop by the name of Charles P Watkins, who had taken an oath to rid his route of all drug traffic with "Fifeish" determination, happened to see what he thought was a dream-come-true situation going down on his very street corner. It looked like a group of shooters were exchanging goods. He began marching purposefully towards the goblins plus one. The junkie, despite his cerebral condition at the moment recognized that walk a mile away split quickly.

"Hey"! Charles called out. The goblins whirled around to face this new obstacle.

"What's going here?"

Ramardo quickly cleared his throat to explain how they were not adult delinquents rather goblins on a human observation trip thought better of it and scrambled around his mind for ideas. Waylar, unfortunately, could take no more. He panicked and with a feminine shriek, sent a shot of sparks bright enough to illuminate the block up in the air. All jumped back in surprise. First to regain a thought process was Charles P. Watkins, who, after checking to see if his eyebrows were still there, grabbed his stick and began a pursuit of Waylar who had taken off in the direction of the junkie. Bronte and Irinan exchanged glances and sprinted off in the opposite direction. And Ramardo, recognizing his big chance, slunk through a near back alley.

After a few minutes of confusion he emerged in front of a brightly lit club on a different yet strikingly similar street. The club was titled "The DoubleO Seven" which seemed to permeate with human life as music blasted through the cinderblock walls. Like a curious moth to a crowded flame Ramardo approached-then entered.

He was hit by a wall the like he never experienced before. A wall of sights, sounds, smells, and pure sensation. It was packed, hundreds it seemed of humans all tight squished together in this dimly lit place. Disco type lights lit one quarter of the room where loud music blared and humans danced in ecstatic movements he had never beheld. A large bar dominated the room where dozens congregated sipping drink laughing talking and getting more in heat by the moment. In awe he slowly and carefully eased his way into the throng, aware of the thick humid smell of bodies, sweat, spilled beer, perfume, and Clorox. He caught a bleary-eyed man gawking at him and quickly lowered his face. His tail was quivering against his pant leg in excitement. His thoughts began turning again. _"Alright, I'm in where the humans are so…time for some observation."_ He headed towards the bar and immediately began getting pushed by the ever-moving crowd. He had never been this close to humans before and it unnerved him a little. His tail was now fighting for escape, his magic senses blocked in the confusion. He started having thoughts of regret for coming in without thinking first. But this was all interrupted a moment later when he found himself wedged up against a new figure. Someone was attempting to squeeze past him and had become trapped between he and a rather large patron. He found a face turned side ways from him and identified it as belonging to the trapped person. He was also overwhelmed by the smell of apricots. He was suddenly transfixed.

"'Scuse me sorry" a voice spoke from the face. And like that they broke free of their human vise and proceeded towards the bar. He stared after her; for it was indeed a her there was no mistaking that when she was wedged up against him. She walked purposefully over the bar and went behind. He just stood staring still feeling tingly from where the contact was made. She was nothing like he'd ever seen. She obviously worked here as she started serving waiting patrons who were around the bar. Realizing he was blocking the flow he moved cautiously towards where she was. Suddenly the song changed to something softer and several couples headed toward the dance floor leaving several spots open at the counter. With lightning reflexes Ramardo was seated at a stool only three away from where she was mixing a drink.

He could easily observe her movements from here he was relieved to note. He put his head down and began his observations.

For one thing she was tall, he had only had her by a half a head. She had thick dark wavy hair not unlike his own only hers was a deep chocolate brown and pulled back in a high ponytail. Her face was so evenly proportioned with soft cheekbones full lips and eyebrows that arched at a surprising angle. On closer inspection, he noted her eyes, which hid beneath blooming lashes, were a hazel color. But the one she had that he was most surprised by was this. When goblins thought of a beautiful female they naturally thought of the elf girls they had grown up with. (Ramardo and his friends had used to gather and watched as the new little elf bridelets came in from above and compare them.) But it seemed human girls had something the elf girls didn't. The girl behind the bar was soft. She had no sharp edges anywhere on her body; everything was soft and curvy, from her hips to her torso to her… Well elf girl were all extremely petite creatures. Thin, fragile, and sharply defined creatures they were beautiful in their own way but not like this girl. She had a fullness to her, a richness, he couldn't explain it.

He watched her as she quickly and efficiently cleaned glasses, poured and mixed drinks, took orders, and still managed to greet the regulars as the came through. He was interrupted in his gazings as two men came up behind him taking their seats next to him. He immediately sensed trouble by the way they were talking in snippets: "…a rear like the QEII more like it" one laughed to the other. He turned a little to glance at them and saw they were in their early thirties, hadn't shaved in days, and that this probably wasn't their first pub and wouldn't be there last before the night was through. Then suddenly she was right in front of him and speaking: "Sorry about the wait, what can I get for you?"

"Erm," he stumbled stunned over her presence "a gin 'n tonic if you don't mind?"

She smiled "Not at all, coming right up". She spoke with a light accent but he couldn't tell where from, it wasn't British exactly.

A few moments past and Ramardo was disgusted by the way the men next to him were acting. They were loud and raucous, and kept making comments about the bartender. Ramardo was furious. _"No goblin would ever act this way in front of a woman!"_ She gave him his gin and asked what the two men wanted. They stalled a little by flirting with her and laughing. He saw hers lips purse a little as if holding her tongue, it was clear she had been through this sort've thing before. At one point one of the two dropped a pencil on the other side of the bar and asked her to retrieve it to which she complied. But to Ramardo's horror he realized they had only done it to get a full view down her light cotton t-shirt. She was now tense and made no effort to be nice to them. They ordered shot after shot while he nursed his gin. After a while she came over and asked in a tolerant voice if he would like anything more to which he declined. He realized sheepishly that he didn't know if he had any money to pay his bill, luckily he found some in his back pocket. _"A strange place to keep currency…"_ he thought vaguely.

"So what do you give 'er" one slurred to the other.

""bout an eight".

"That good 'nuff for us?"

"Yeah".

"Alright then we should…". Ramardo strained to hear what they were saying. His tail gave a hard twitch and he nearly fell off the stool. The two gave him an amused look. "That one's been using something'. Or it using him" they chortled. They both went back to giving lecherous looks at the girl. He had had enough, he had to do something. An idea occurred to him. With a muttered spell and a small flick of his fingers, one of the men spit out his drink in a spray that slathered the table. He jumped up and whirled around in his seat. "Oi something bit me!"

"Cool it", slurred his companion.

Ramardo flicked his fingers again and the companion lurched forward as one of the stool legs gave out. His chin cracked against the counter and he slumped to the ground before scrambling up in a rage. She had by this time noticed the commotion and marched over eyes blazing.

"Alright you two it might be time to call it a night eh'?"

"It wasn't my bloody fault! Something kicked my chair in!" he was gesturing wildly barely keeping on his feet. She frowned and gave a nod to the side. A man melted out of the shadows and took hold of their shoulders preparing to escort them out.

"Oi," one cried out furious, "we aren't finished here yet!"

"I'm afraid you are" she replied calmly.

One of them broke free slightly and said: "Now come on love…" he reached for her in what he thought was an irresistible fashion. She took hold of his wrist and slammed in on the counter so fast that Ramardo blinked in surprise. He gave a yelp of pain and clutched his wrist. They were escorted out in a drunken rage. Satisfied with his work, Ramardo finished his drink and left the money on the counter before disappearing into the shadows.


	5. Chapter 5

Gabriella went to the back room threw off her coat. Her shift was nearly over she just had to wait till Bernice got here then she could go home and rest before she had to head back into lessons. She wiped her brow, which was perspiring in a most unladylike way. A door opened and a frumpy woman in her mid fifties trumped in. "Hello Bernice" she called out thankfully.

"'Ello yourself Brie", she mumbled intent on a tabloid she held over her face. Brie picked up her denim jacket. "Let me just pick up the crumbs and I'll be off" she called over her shoulder. She combed her portion of counter for tips.

 _"_ _Not bad tonight"_ she thought, she then noted that one of the patrons had left her no tips. She frowned in disgust. She knew that as a bartender one of her main responsibilities was to treat all her customers with the same degree of cheerful hospitality. Oh sure a little flirting didn't hurt, especially to some of the regulars who often came just see a pretty face. But she always was nice to everyone, as you never know who would be willing to spare a little extra.

 _"_ _Of course when they start acting like a-holes you have to turn down the sweet a notch,"_ she noted to herself, recalling the disturbances she'd dealt with. Her thoughts returned to the stingy customer. She tried to recall who had been sitting there. "Oh yeah", she muttered audibly. A man in a hoodie who never showed his face. He had been there when those two had gone off; it probably annoyed him too much to leave a tip to such an establishment. Or he was a junkie who didn't have any to spare. She shrugged and returning the cash to her purse she headed off into the night.

She was walking down a darkened alley fairly comfortably while thinking of home. She was desperate to get back to her apartment where she'd fix herself a cup of tea, feed her canary, and try to get some sleep before five o clock rolled around. She glanced at her watch and grimaced, two o clock already. She would probably call in sick she decided. _"The girls at the gym can get a replacement easy enough."_ She turned into yet another dark crevice when she heard the noise. It was a sort of quiet shuffling sound, her heart started pumping a little faster but she kept walking at the same pace, not inferring anything. Another banging noise and a muffled curse stopped her in her tracks and she spun around just in time to see a figure jump out behind her.

"Ello love…" the voice slurred. She dropped her purse and bent her knees, drawing her arms in at a defensive position. The man lunged and she jumped back, unfortunately a second assailant grabbed her from behind. She could smell a type of Irish whiskey that she recognized allowing her to identify her attackers instantly.

"You sorry bas-". A hand over mouth cut off her verbal ID. The first man laughed and approached her coolly. She allowed herself to go limp, making the second let up his hold. Then with a sudden jerked she snapped her head back and felt his nose break from behind. He gave a cry and released her. Before the other could respond she quickly gave him a left hook in the eye. He swore and stumbled back. She stood and quickly evaluated her dire situation, both of her attacks down temporarily but if she ran they would chase and most likely catch her. No, she would take care of this now. She determined which one whose wrist she had hurt and lunged towards the first man. She seized the arm and landed with it on the ground. He gave an animal like squeal and swung around to hit her but she quickly dodged catching it only slightly on her shoulder. She scrambled to her feet and turned to face the second who had by this time recovered from her blow. Her breath coming in gasps she hurriedly sized him up then made the first move, feinting to the right. He gave a clumsy swing at her but she backed off and using her momentum, swung her booted foot up into his crotch. He bent over in agony, blood dripping off his broken nose onto the concrete. She then drove her knee up into his torso and jumped to the side sending them both over. She rolled around and sat up nursing her now bruised shoulder. She was a bit winded but pressed forward, her adrenaline on full flow. Moving back to the first one who was still lying on the ground she jumped on him and drove her elbow downward sharply into his neck. He gave a gasp that turned to a gurgle and clawed at her face. She gave him an evil grin. She was about to finish him off when her hair was seized, pulling her back painfully. She gave a shriek but he grabbed under her arms, pinning her against him. Number one, seeing the opportunity, seized her feet. She jerked at struggled against there hold. Suddenly something like a firework shot over their heads with a burst of flame and red sparks. It hit the wall where it splattered and began dripping down, glowing like molten steel. They all looked on in shock, till she was dropped abruptly and they scrambled away like two wounded dogs.

She lay there gasping for breath just having had the wind knocked out her; she saw spots and flashes from where it had shot.

"Are you alright"? A voice said to her side. Her head whipped around to she who had spoken causing a wave of vertigo to slide her off her propped up arms. She attempted to sit back up when she felt a hand grabbed hers. An arm slid behind her back and with extra help she got to her feet. She turned to face the newcomer. The shadows obscured most of them but she noticed the blue hoodie and realized it was the same one she had seen at the bar.

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright now", she choked out. He didn't release his hold on her; she noticed he had surprising strength behind it. She also noticed his height.

"Well thanks," she said warily drawing away. He dropped his limbs and stared her from under his hood. She had had enough of men for one night. "Well goodbye then," she turned to leave.

"Wait!" he called stepping forward. For one uncanny moment it looked to her as though his eyes were glowing orange. She stopped reluctantly.

"Shouldn't we report those hu-men to your leaders?" he inquired solemnly. She gave a scoff; "Please I've dealt with their type before, it'll be easiest just to say nothing, and they won't be back anyway" she trailed off.

He was silent for a moment before answering: "At least let me escort you home…"

"No" she replied quickly then felt rude, "no it's alright I'll be fine now. You can go I'm not hurt".

"Please, it would put my mind at ease for not assisting you more back when…" gestured to simulate her attack.

"Well…alright" she complied.

She started walking in the direction she needed quickly. Her strange new companion followed behind silently. She felt her spine tingle a little at his presence. Who was this guy? Where did he come from? _"And why"_ she realized suddenly _"am I showing him where I live?"_

They came to a street that was lined with motels, and here she stopped and turned around.

"Here we are, thank you for your help", she said coolly. He didn't move but looked around suspiciously. For a moment she worried he would refuse to go, but after a few seconds he bid her a goodnight and stalked off in the opposite direction. She watched him disappear into the shadows, and then summoning the remainder of her strength, she sprinted three blocks to her real apartment.


End file.
